


Like Every Movie Ever

by TheBritishGovernment



Series: 00Q Drabbles [6]
Category: James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:32:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1620980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBritishGovernment/pseuds/TheBritishGovernment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q tries to hide from life. Bond finds him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Every Movie Ever

Q sat on the counter of the R&D men’s restroom that was located deep in the tunnels of MI6 and Q-Branch. His legs were crossed underneath him, his tie was in a pile on the floor, and the first three buttons of his shirt was unbuttoned. It was almost three in the morning and he was hiding from the rest of his branch. Hardly anyone went to that level of Q-Branch, and certainly no one went there at three in the morning. Q took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. He was such an _idiot_.

The door opened and Q’s head shot up to see James Bond enter the room. “What are you doing?” Bond asked curiously and maybe just a tad concerned. His face was mostly impassive, but Q had learned how to read the micro expressions that gave away Bond’s thoughts. Working with someone for two years would do that to a person.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Q asked sharply. He didn’t feel like acting mature. It had been a far too long of a day for that.

“Hiding,” Bond answered simply. He took a careful step towards Q. His eyes traveled up and down the quartermaster’s body, discreetly. Q noticed only because he had been watching and waiting for it to happen.

“Obviously not very effectively,” Q grumbled. 

Bond nodded and smirked at him. When Q didn’t so much as acknowledge the silent agreement with a sharp look or comment, but only looked back in his lap, Bond became concerned. He wanted to lift Q’s chin and make him look him in the eye. He wanted to place his hands on Q’s knees and talk him through whatever was going on in his head, but he knew Q well enough to know he would snap at him at the contact and Bond wouldn’t ever find out what was wrong. 

Instead he slid up onto the counter next to Q and braced his hands on either side of his legs, his left hand not even an inch from Q’s legs. 

Q tried to ignore the logical part of his brain that told him that Bond was waiting for Q to tell him what had happened. It didn’t feel like he was. It felt like open acceptance of the situation, whatever it was. It felt like Bond already knew and had forgiven him. It felt like it always felt around Bond. He wanted to rest his head on Bond’s shoulder, but was afraid the agent would leave at the first sight of affection.

They sat like that for what felt like hours, though it was probably more like a few minutes. “009 is dead,” Q said quietly. The air between them buzzed as soon as the words left him. He hadn’t meant for the words to slip out, but they had and now he couldn’t take them back.

“You’ve lost agents before,” Bond said just as quietly.

“I’ve never lost control in front of my branch before,” Q countered. 

Bond snorted. “You think they aren’t going to respect you now?”

“I wouldn’t. Not after what I did.” Q’s words came out as more of a breath than a response

Bond laughed again and wrapped an arm around Q’s shoulders, pulling the man against him. “First of all, they love you. You have a plaque on your desk that says “Overlord” on it that they gave to you. They call themselves your minions because when you were still an intern you said that you wanted minions to do your work for you.”

“And second?” Q asked quietly. He rested his head on Bond’s chest, his face almost nuzzled into the agent’s neck.

“I once saw Major Boothroyd throw a stapler at one of the minions because he changed the schematics of a plan by two millimeters without running it by him first.”

Q laughed and moved to pull out of Bond’s embrace, only for Bond to slide his arm down around his waist and pull him closer.

“They love you, Q,” he whispered into the dark curls on Q’s head. “And so do the agents.”

Q pivoted his head to look at Bond. “Are you sure it’s not just one agent who loves me?” Q asked with a cheeky grin.

Bond stared down at Q, a small fond smile growing across his lips. “No.”

Q’s eyes went wide at what Bond had said. His entire brain crashed to a halt. _Agent. Love. Me. Bond._

“Let’s get you home,” Bond said, sliding off of the counter. Q continued to stare. He let his legs unfold from under him so that they hung off of the edge of the counter. Bond turned to face Q. “That requires getting off the counter, Q,” he said, his voice light with amusement. There wasn’t much room between them. Bond was almost standing directly between Q’s legs. 

Without thinking through the action completely Q kicked out his legs and wrapped them around Bond’s waist. He tried to pull Bond closer, but Bond’s feet were firmly planted on the ground. The agent took a step forward to make up for it and Q almost frowned simply because it hadn’t worked nearly as well as in ever movie ever.

Bond laughed at the expression on Q’s face. “Just kiss me, damnit,” Q grumbled, wrapping his arms around Bond’s neck.

“With pleasure,” Bond whispered, before capturing Q’s lips with his own. Q’s arms tightened and Bond’s hands started on the other man’s hips only to move up into his hair as the kiss grew more urgent and needy. Bond’s tongue darted out of his own mouth to lick at Q’s lips. Q opened his mouth obediently and met Bond’s tongues with his own. The slid of wet tongues stopped only when Q caught Bond’s tongue and sucked on it obscenely. 

Bond groaned and Q smirked. 

“You little minx,” Bond said when they broke for air. His fingers had tangled themselves in Q’s hair and continued to hold tightly as he rested his forehead on Q’s.

“Wouldn’t have me any other way.” Q grinned.

Bond bit lightly on Q’s bottom lip. “Never. Are you going home or catching a early breakfast with me?” Bond asked. 

Q planted another kiss on Bond’s lips simply because he could. “Why can’t I do both?” 

Bond smirked at him and kissed him breathless before breaking out of Q’s grip so the man could recompose himself and slide off the counter. 

Q replaced his glasses and stuffed his tie in his pocket. “How did you know to come find me?” Q asked after a moment.

Bond shrugged and put his hands in his pockets.

Q moved in front of Bond as he walked, his hips swaying seductively, to say nothing of the grin that he sent over his shoulder to Bond.

Bond was going to have to buy R a fucking car for the well-timed text message about the whereabouts of the quartermaster.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this amazing cosplay](http://www.deviantart.com/art/00Q-III-444979074).


End file.
